"Well, I just thought you’d want to go home, you know…check things out at the house, your friends…you know…"
Jessica stared at Mac in amused wonder.
"Bill’s taking care of the house; he’s staying there until we get back, I forgot to tell you." Looking down briefly, she ran the palm of her left hand down his smooth, denim-covered thigh and cupped his knee in her hand. "And as for my friends…you’re the only friend I need, Cory. I’m not leaving this place until you do, so get used to having a shadow."
He shrugged, but the peace on his face told her he was thrilled that she wasn’t running home to Dane. Dane had been right; Mac needed her now, more than ever, and she needed him.
"It would be nice to be home for Thanksgiving…" she added, after he’d turned the vehicle back onto the road.
"Yeah, it would, especially since they don’t celebrate it here," he said, laughing.
Eighteen
Giving Thanks and Forgiveness
"Reva, I’ll get that," Jessica admonished her mother-in-law, who was feebly trying to lift a heavy tray of turkey dressing from the oven.
"You’re in no better shape than I am, dear. Ask Cory to get it."
Jessica pushed a stray wisp of hair from her damp face and stubbornly lifted the casserole to a hotplate on the counter with a thud.
"I would, but he’s gone with Tom. You go sit down, Mom. Is it hot in here?"
"Between your pregnancy and my hot flashes…"
"It’s the ovens, that’s what it is. That turkey is taking forever. You okay? Maybe you should go sit in with the others, Mom." Jessica began pawing through kitchen drawers in search of a basting brush.
"Jessie, I’m just fine, honey. You’re the one who should be resting. Lord, I’ll never forget the November when I was carrying Charlene, we had the whole family over for Thanksgiving; my sister-in-law, Cory’s Aunt Jane, was supposed to bring the vegetables."
Jessica stopped looking for the brush and stared at Reva MacKendall. "Charlene?" she questioned the elderly woman.
"My daughter, Charlene. Cory’s sister. Anyway, Jane was supposed to be bringing some carrots and peas, and she never showed up! How do you like that! There I was, eight months pregnant, with twenty people sitting down and all I had was turnips. And Cory cried the whole day. I’ll never forget, he was teething or some such thing. And Charles, my husband, God rest him, well, men didn’t do much helpin’ with kids back then."
Jessica’s brow frowned in thought as she found the basting brush and hastily brushed some butter on the tops of the rolls. Mac had never mentioned a sister…but then he’d never said he didn’t have one, either.
Suddenly Roxanne breezed into the kitchen carrying Megan, who was crying loudly, and sat her on the counter. "She fell," Roxie explained breathlessly. Jessica rushed to examine the little girl’s bleeding knee.
"Omigosh," Jessica breathed in a mock serious tone. "Looks pretty bad, I don’t know, what do you think, Gramma?"
Reva looked over her shoulder. "Hmmm. Looks like the knee of a little girl who thinks she’s a little boy."
Megan was wailing. Jessica dampened a clean cloth and dabbed at the knee, prompting more screams from the little girl’s mouth.
"Gosh I’m sorry, Jess, I just turned my back for a minute and they were up in the tree."
"It’s okay, Rox. She’ll be fine. Where is Alex?"
Roxie’s eyes shifted to the kitchen door, where Alexander Pierce was peeking around the doorjamb. Jessica rolled her eyes and smiled at Roxie.
"I…want…my…daddy…!" Megan sobbed as Jessica tenderly placed a bandage on the injured knee.
"Daddy will be back in a few minutes, Meggie. Now you just calm down. Do you want to watch your new video again?"
Megan shook her head, tears flying from her face, but she’d stopped crying now and jumped down from the counter. Spying Alexander waiting for her, she tore across the kitchen after him.
"Megan! Stay out of the tree," Jessica called after her, wearily shaking her head.
Things had roared at a furious pace since she and Mac had stepped off the airplane four days before. So much to be done, so little time…Mac had suggested they have a quiet Thanksgiving alone, but Jessica was determined to get everyone together that she’d missed; she’d been gone nearly two months.
And she was nervous about everything. The impending birth of her baby weighed heavily on her, both emotionally and physically. Now, in the hot kitchen, she sat down and rested her hands on her still growing stomach.
"Jess, you need a break. Let me work on this," Roxie offered, squeezing her friend’s shoulders.
"I’m okay, really. Just tired. I’m not sleeping too well."
Just then, the sound of Tom’s Hummer on the driveway caused them both to move toward the kitchen window. Reva remained sitting, oxygen tank nearby.
"‘Bout time they got back," she muttered.
Jessica rushed to the front door, opened it, and stood watching as Mac and Tom jumped out of the car, both immediately opening the rear passenger doors behind them. Jessica stared in awe as Mac extended his hand into the backseat, helping Dane Pierce to exit the car. Jackie Spencer was getting out of the other side.
"Dane," Jessica whispered under her breath.
Mac reached back into the car and produced a cane, handing it to Dane in a comic gesture. "You okay, man?"
"I survived Jarrick’s hit-and-miss driving, if that’s what you mean," Dane responded cheerfully. With Jackie at his side, he walked slowly, carefully favoring his still hurting left leg. At the edge of the porch he paused and looked up, his eyes instantly locking on to Jessica’s. A slow grin spread across his lips.
"Well, well…Jessica MacKendall," he said sweetly, emphasizing her last name. "You’re a sight for sore eyes."
Mac was already up the steps ahead of him, and he embraced his wife warmly, kissing her cheek with affection.
"You all right, babe? You look tired."
Pulling her eyes away from Dane, Jessica smiled confidently at her husband. "I’m fine, darling. And where did you dig up that mess?" she joked, pointing to Dane.
"Valley Hospital. The nurses didn’t want to let him go, but he’d worn out his welcome with the doctors."
"Actually it was the form-pressed-imitation-open-faced turkey sandwich on today’s menu that cinched it," added Tom, as the five of them moved into the house. "As rotten as you are, Pierce, we couldn’t let you suffer that."
"Daddy, Daddy!"
Jessica wasn’t sure who had screamed the word first, but both Megan and Alexander were racing into the kitchen with open arms. Sentiment welled in her throat as she watched Mac tenderly examining his daughter’s knee; Dane painfully lifting Alexander into his arms.
"This is too much," she murmured and turned her attention to Jackie, standing forlornly in the doorway. "Take your sweater, Jackie?"
"Thanks," she replied gratefully. "How are you, Jessica? You’re so…big!"
"And I have another month to go, can you believe it?"
"Your home is beautiful," Jackie went on, looking around excitedly. "I really appreciate your inviting me to Thanksgiving. My folks live in Nevada, you know, and I just couldn’t go home this year, what with the film and all…"
"Film? What are you doing?" Jessica was leading her down the hall to show her the nursery.
"Dane’s new picture, surely you know about it? You don’t have to pretend he didn’t offer you the role first, Jess. I’m just glad you couldn’t take it," Jackie said happily, her cool gray eyes sparkling with unabashed joy.
"And how is he supposed to be doing a film when he can barely walk?" Jessica said in frustration, more to herself than to Jackie.
"Oh, Jessie, this room is gorgeous. It’s perfect! You really have a flair for decorating, don’t you? Whenever I try to decorate, I end up pasting the wallpaper upside down."
Somehow that doesn’t surprise me, Jessica thought wryly. So, Jackie was doing Dane’s new film. Why did that both
er her so much?
As they returned to the kitchen, Jessica appraised Jackie’s appearance critically; the waist long, shining black hair, her almost too thin waist. She was a good four or five inches taller than Jessica, giving her an advantage on the screen with tall actors…like Dane Pierce. Ruefully Jessica watched Jackie flit about, tasting the cranberries and the dressing with her fingers and stealing glances at Dane, who now sat at the kitchen table with his leg propped on a chair.
Dane’s eyes, however, followed Jessica’s movements as she returned to the task of finishing up the meal.
Jessica was thoughtful during dinner. One by one, she gazed at the nine other people at her table, thinking on each and giving a silent thanks for their presence in her life. Strong, steady Tom Jarrick, who seemed to be on this earth to make others feel safe and secure; would he eventually ask dear Roxanne to be his wife? Reva MacKendall, her seventy-year old eyes flitting back and forth as she listened attentively to the dinner conversation of her son and his friends, her life-giving air machine at her ankle.
Bill Campbell had joined them just before dinner. Single, unattached, Bill was the type you were always wanting to set up with some nice girl…and nothing ever happened. A shy man who had somehow become an actor with almost no ego, Bill could just as easily have been a high school teacher or an astronomer.
Megan and Alexander were just months apart in age, but the difference in them was as great as that of their fathers. While Dane painstakingly chopped, sliced and mashed Alex’s dinner for him, occasionally coaxing the boy’s mouth open for a bite, Megan was totally self-sufficient with her meal and was now politely asking for a second glass of milk. Both were bright, however, and seemed attracted to one another out of sheer challenge. It had been Jessica’s suggestion that Peter Welles join them for dinner, but after hearing the desire in Peter’s voice to have some time away from the rowdy seven-year-old, she insisted that Peter take a day off and drop young Alex off at "Casa MacKendall". She’d had no inkling of Mac’s plan to bring Dane home for Thanksgiving.
"If you ask me, those damned politicians have screwed up the entire thing. I remember my dad saying years ago that the whole Social Security concept would eventually collapse. We didn’t agree on a lot, but I have to say he was right." Tom was arguing his opinion while spooning out more potatoes.
"You’re right, Tom, but the new administration just might change things. Did you really read Senate Bill 509? Or was it 905..." Mac said.
Tom shrugged. "More thinly disguised, bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo. What do you think, Dane?"
Dane had been quieter than usual, Jessica thought, finally daring to look at him across the table from where she sat between Mac and Reva.
"I think you’re both right, of course...but it’s hard to put it in perspective right now, for me, that is...I’ve been rather removed from the news, you know?"
Of course; Dane had nearly died in Singapore. How could he have formed an opinion of the latest ballot issue? Everyone fell silent for a moment.
"So, how are the Trojans doing?" Dane asked comically, before biting into another dinner roll. Everyone laughed at his remark except Jessica, who raised her eyes to the ceiling then smiled at Roxanne.
"Politics and football! Hasn’t anyone seen any good movies lately?"
"I hear Lost Season is the most anticipated film of the year," Bill piped up from the end of the table. Again they laughed, and Jessica’s eyes lit up.
"Is it true, Dane?" she asked.
Dane swallowed, then cleared his throat. "It’s true. The worn out desert island plot has some sizzle left after all. The critics will be eating crow, all over town. And you, my dear, are the hottest news on the block."
Jessica colored at his words. Lost Season seemed so remote; but it was true that she’d already turned down three interviews since she’d returned from New Zealand.
Mac pointed his finger at Dane in jest. "Then, you haven’t been totally removed from the news," he challenged.
"Well, I have been reading my mail. And when my investment guy wants to have lunch, I know I’m doing well." Dane told them. "You realize, the premiere is December 15th. And advance orders for the video are already coming in."
"Jesus, the video’s coming out and I haven’t even seen the movie!" Mac exclaimed, creating general merriment around the table.
"The fifteenth…" Jessica murmured. Unconsciously she pressed her hand against the baby within her.
"It’s wonderful," Jackie offered shyly, "When we went for the pre-screening, I cried at the end."
Dane took her hand and squeezed it warmly, then looked back at Jessica. "Well, that’s what we wanted, right Jess?" His green eyes seemed almost gray surrounded by his now pale complexion. There was little trace of Lost Season’s dashing Roger Boyer on Dane’s face, Jessica noted; the evidence of his nightmarish stay in Singapore was still present. In her mind’s eye, Jessica could see herself taping the small, "butterfly" bandages over his eye; sponging down his bruised and broken body; holding a cup of water to his tender, painful lips. She’d sat with him while the doctor had re-set his arm; Dane had nearly crushed her hand, gripping it for support and screaming in agony. Jessica had screamed too, screamed at the doctor to stop hurting Dane…
Unconsciously Jessica reached her left hand under the table and wrapped it around Mac’s thigh for support. Finished with his meal, Mac put his right arm around her and leaned close to her ear.
"Maybe you should lie down, babe."
Quickly she snapped herself away from the melancholy and turned to him.
"No way! And miss Mom’s pumpkin pie?" she teased, giving him a quick kiss.
"Sounds good to me," Roxanne announced, standing and gathering several empty plates. Tom stood to help her, then Jackie joined in. The children scrambled out of their chairs and made for the door.
"Whoa, there, little girl," Mac hollered, and Megan stopped at the sound of his voice. "What happened to your manners?"
"May I please be excused?" she asked timidly, her brown eyes favoring her father with a most beguiling look, not unlike the one Mac often used, Jessica thought whimsically.
"Yes, you may. Take your plate to the sink, please." Mac’s voice was stern but not unkind, and Megan dutifully returned to retrieve her plate. Wordlessly Alexander followed suit, and the two handed their dishes to Roxie.
Dane raised his eyebrows. "So, Mac," he began, now grinning. "Mind if Alex stays with you folks for awhile? A year, maybe?"
"Who wants pie?" Roxie asked, to which she received a unanimous cry. Jackie returned to sit with Dane and Bill. Mac rose from the table and took Jessie’s hand.
"Come on," he said softly, leading her into the hallway and down to their bedroom, where he closed the door behind them. He took her into his arms and stared into her eyes for a long moment without speaking.
"Should I be worried?" he finally asked. "You seem down."
"I’m fine, Mac, honest. I really am…just…tired. I haven’t slept well the last few nights--since we got back. I’m so…uncomfortable!" She uttered a short laugh, hoping to put him at ease.
"You don’t mind about Dane, do you? Did I blow it by bringing him here?"
"I guess that depends on why you brought him, darling."
He did not answer at first, apparently searching his soul for the real reason he’d invited Dane back into their home. "I wanted to share something…good with him. It’s been a long, long time coming, but I think it can happen now, Jessica."
"Something other than me," she corrected him.
"No, you too. Not in the way he’s accustomed to, I’m sure. But our lives…God, we’ve all come so far together; not just Dane, but Tom and Roxie too; I’m coming to realize that the world isn’t just black and white, right and wrong, day and night…there’s a lot more to it. Dane is as much a part of our lives as any of those other people out there, maybe more; and shutting him out would be like shutting out a part of us."
Jessica stared at him in awe. Was this
really her stubborn, hard-headed, jealous husband talking about keeping Dane in their lives?
"Mac, do you really feel that way?"
Silently he nodded, and sensing her desire, leaned down to kiss her lovingly. "And maybe I just hated to see him spend Thanksgiving alone in the hospital with a turkey sandwich, for God’s sake."
They were still kissing when the door burst open wide and Megan came tearing past them, screaming like a banshee with Alex just behind her. Like lightning, Mac’s hand intercepted her petite body and scooped her up in one motion, firmly grasping her small jaw in his hand.
"Hey! What’s this all about? Is that the proper way to enter a closed room?" he demanded.
Megan shook her head slowly. Alex retreated to the hall. Jessica bit her lip in sympathy for the little girl, for she was coming to discover that Mac was a father not to be reckoned with, despite Megan’s childlike seduction.
"How about a time out?" Mac suggested firmly.
Megan again shook her head. He put her down and sighed.
"I think that would be a good idea. Go on, ten minutes--in your room," he directed, swatting her behind lightly as she trotted from the room. He waited for Jessica in the open doorway, holding his hand out to her with the intention of escorting back to the dining room for pie.
"Just a minute," Jessie said, pausing. Mac returned to place his hands on her shoulders.
"Yes?" He waited expectantly.
"Just--I love you, that’s all."
He embraced her once more before they rejoined the others.
~ * ~
"Daddy, that man has my doll." Megan stood primly before Mac as he worked to build a fire in the fieldstone fireplace that evening. Mac looked to Dane who sat on the couch turning the doll in his hands, comically lifting the doll’s dress and peeking underneath.
"I keep waiting for them to make Barbie anatomically correct!" Dane joked. Mac laughed aloud.
"It’s okay, sugar; Uncle Dane won’t keep your Barbie. Go ask him nicely, he’ll give it back."
Shyly Megan approached Dane and stood silently before him.
Starcrossed Hearts Page 31
